Stories
Loved to death
It was a sign of love, but just one kiss was a killer...
My boyfriend Danny trudged into the living room and flopped on to the sofa. He had dark circles under his eyes and couldn't stop yawning - I guess that's what a 14-hour shift as a delivery driver did to you.
But I had something to wake him up! ‘I'm pregnant,' I whispered softly.
‘What?' he gasped, jumping up quickly. ‘What about money, how will we cope?'
‘It'll be okay,' I soothed, placing his hand on my belly.
Danny, 21, stopped and a smile spread right across his face.
‘You're right,' he grinned. ‘It's just a shock.'
It certainly was. I was 19 and we'd been together a year, had just got our own flat and spent our weekends partying. A baby would change everything, but I didn't care one bit.
As my bump grew, so did our excitement. ‘We don't know the sex,' I told my mum Wendy, 43, when we visited her after my 20-week scan. ‘We want a surprise.'
‘Have you thought of any names?' she asked.
‘Mia-Faith,' I smiled.
‘And it'll be Ralph if it's a boy,' Danny grinned.
‘We're not naming our baby after a character from The Simpsons,' I scoffed. ‘It'll be Riley.'
‘Spoilsport,' he teased.
One thing we did agree on was that we'd need to move to a bigger place, so there was no point turning the spare room into a nursery.
‘At the new place, we'll decorate our baby's room with Humphrey's Corner stuff,' I insisted. I loved those children's books and their beautiful illustrations.
All too soon, I was in labour. As I pushed and panted, Danny went a shade of green.
‘I hate hospitals,' he grimaced to me.
‘Then best you stay outside,' a nurse smiled.
But he'd only been gone a minute when our beautiful son arrived! Danny came bursting into the room.
‘Riley's got our dark hair,' I smiled proudly.
‘Perfect,' Danny beamed. ‘Now let me have a hold.'
Our beautiful baby was a healthy 6lb 8oz and, the next day, we brought him home. Our white Staffordshire bull terrier Fiesta sniffed Riley's car seat.
‘Gently,' I said. But I needn't have worried. She lay protectively at our bedroom door when we put Riley to sleep.
Time passed in a blur of visitors showering our baby with kisses, feeds and nappy changes.
But when he was three days old, I noticed two red marks on the back of his head, one the size of a 2p, the other a 5p.
‘What are they?' I frowned, showing them to Danny.
‘I don't know,' he shrugged. ‘The midwife's coming in a couple of days, mention it to her.'
So I did.
‘Riley needed the ventouse to help with his delivery,' she explained patiently. ‘They're probably suction marks.'
‘Okay,' I sighed, relieved. ‘But last night he went for 11 hours without waking for a feed. And
he seems wheezy.'
‘You can wake him up for a feed if you have to,' she replied. ‘And don't worry.'
‘I'm being paranoid,' I sighed after she'd gone.
‘Don't be daft,' Danny smiled. ‘You just love Riley.'
I tried to keep myself busy, not worry too much. So, six days later, with Riley watching from his bouncy chair, I tidied the lounge.
‘Time for a feed,' I smiled, settling on the sofa with him.
Then my blood ran cold.
His lips were blue.
‘Riley?' I trembled, lifting his arm. It flopped back down.
‘Danny!' I screamed. He came running in from the bedroom.
‘It's Riley.' He put his hand on our baby's chest.
‘He's not breathing,' he croaked. ‘I'll call an ambulance.'
‘I need to get out of my pyjamas,' I panicked. Rushing into the bedroom, I changed into jeans and a t-shirt.
By the time I reappeared, paramedics were working on my little boy.
‘Riley!' I screamed.
‘We need to take him to hospital,' a paramedic explained.
‘H-hospital?' I gulped.
There wasn't enough room for us all in the ambulance. I'd go with Riley, Danny would follow with my mum.
Once there, I was taken to the room where Riley was being worked on. It seemed 100 doctors were towering over him.
‘I can't stay here,' I sobbed, stumbling towards the family room. Sitting there, I stared blindly at the floor for what seemed like an eternity, then Mum and Danny walked in.
‘Oh, Mum,' I sobbed, falling into her arms.
Suddenly, the door opened. I wiped my eyes, and stared longingly at the nurse.
‘I'm sorry,' she whispered. ‘We couldn't save Riley. There was no oxygen in his blood.'
I slumped on to my knees.
‘No!' I howled, Danny holding me, sobbing too.
Riley was taken to a private room, and we went to see him.
‘Baby,' I wept. He was lying so still, wearing a blue babygro. I kissed his head gently. ‘I'll always love you.'
‘Why him?' Danny cried. Nobody knew, though.
‘We'll need to perform an autopsy,' the doctor explained.
I nodded numbly, then kissed Riley for the last time. ‘Bye, my darling,' I whispered.
Back home, the flat felt empty. Seeing my congratulations cards lined up, I just curled up on the sofa with Fiesta beside me, her ears down.
‘You know, don't you,' I wept, stroking her head. ‘We miss
him so much.'
It was so hard, as my body still thought I was feeding Riley. When I saw my milk seeping out, my heart cracked
a little more.
As the weeks passed, my pain didn't heal, but the need to know what killed my baby helped numb it.
Then the coroner came to see us. I was shaking as
he sat down. ‘Riley caught the herpes virus,' he explained. ‘It causes cold sores.'
‘But how could that kill him?' I asked.
‘It can attack the heart, liver and lungs,' he went on. ‘If someone was carrying the virus and kissed him, it could've been passed on.'
‘One kiss could have killed my boy?' I whispered. One gentle, innocent, loving kiss...
Neither me or Danny had ever had a coldsore - but then again, apparently you don't always know you've got the virus, so who could say whether it was us, one of our friends, or a member of the family who'd passed it on to our boy.
‘Nobody's to blame,' Danny insisted, hugging me. ‘It was a tragic accident.'
He was right. All any of us had ever done was love our boy for the nine short days of his life.
‘At least we can bury him now,' I nodded.
We ordered Riley a powder blue coffin and had a five-piece pinstripe black suit made for him, complete with tie. We filled his tiny coffin with family photos and teddies too.
‘He can't be lonely in heaven,' I said. ‘And I don't want anyone wearing black to the funeral.'
On the day, I wore a cream dress and me and Danny held Riley's coffin in our funeral car - so we could be with him until the end.
I tried to be strong, but when we played DJ Ironik's Stay With Me, I broke down.
Now me and Danny visit Riley's grave every Sunday. And as we lay down white roses, I blow him a kiss.
Riley was so loved, he was always going to be spoilt with kisses. To think one might have killed him doesn't bear thinking about.
Louise Foster, 20, Clacton-on-Sea, Essex
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